The September 19, 2022 story challenge from Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch is to: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about mud on the tires. The tires can be from any conveyance or serve as an analogy. How did they get muddy and why? What impact does mud on the tires have on the story (plot) or characters (motivation)? Go where the prompt leads! Submit by September 24, 2022.
I continue to continue the story of the red convertible begun with the Red Convertible, then Swimmingly, and last week’s Balloons On a Bumper. I am adding a Six Sentence episode as well. Go to Denise’s GirlieOntheEdge to link up your Six Sentence Story and to read those of others.
Back Tracking by D. Avery
“Relax, it’s not a spider.”
Her husband’s voice startled her more than the string that brushed her face. She switched on the light, illuminating the motel cabin, a stringed balloon at the ceiling, her husband sitting up in the armchair, the portable oxygen tank in his lap.
“I put the top up on the convertible.”
“And stole a balloon.”
“Just before this downpour.”
He was wheezing and didn’t argue when she gave him morphine drops.
“It came on fast.”
“It’s just rain,” she said. “What’s a little mud on our tires?”
He smiled wanly. “We should head home tomorrow.”
Tangled by D. Avery
Still sleepless in the thin gray light of the drizzly dawn, she read the words on the heart shaped balloon that turned in a draft, Just tied showing, then the Knot, to and fro.
How often had she felt just tied; tied and tired, bound by duty, her attachment held by worn threads of habit? If she picked at the knot of their marriage, would pulling at one line cause it to tighten upon itself even more, or would the knot unravel before her like neat map lines? A tangled nest of heart strings, she mused.
“It’s been a good ride,” he rasped, reaching for her hand. Because of the knot in her throat, she only squeezed his hand back in silent agreement, then got up to pack the red convertible for the journey home.